


Hopes Fallen to Ash

by ishiptheships



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Claude dies and they mourn, Crimson Flower Route, F/M, Gay Male Character, M/M, Multi, me: fixates on a bisexual character and creates a throuple out of it, possible polyamory but oopsie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21613141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiptheships/pseuds/ishiptheships
Summary: The Alliance has fallen.  Hilda and Lorenz remember their leader and mourn together.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Hopes Fallen to Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Lorenz technically doesn't show up in Crimson Flower, but i made him show up at the battle of the bridge bc Lorenz deserves his rights to follow Claude. 
> 
> I know there aren't a lot of fics in the Lorenz/Claude/Hilda tag...and im sorry this is a sad one. maybe i'll write a happier one in the future i adore these three so much

Hilda rests her head on the cold stone cell wall. Not soon after the fall of the Alliance, she was overwhelmed by the Empire’s soldiers, hands bound, and tossed into carriage. She was rushed into a cell somewhere in Enbarr and locked up for…who knows how long. She doesn’t even know how long it’s been since—

Since Claude’s death. She takes a deep breath and closes her exhausted eyes. It was more like an execution, as she was forced back from the entrance of the city to the docks, she saw the Emperor and the Professor bring Claude to his knees.

He had smiled at the two of them, his old classmate and old professor. His coat was stained with his blood. _Right until the very end. I’ve read this whole thing terribly wrong, huh._

She remembers running—

_All my hopes have fallen to ash…_

\--her lungs burning from exhaustion, her eyes on Edelgard’s relic swinging upwards—

_It’s all up to you. I hope you really do make the world better…_

She doesn’t remember screaming or crying. Hilda fell to her knees, chest tight, and when Edelgard’s read cloak fluttered behind her as she raised her voice victoriously, blood at her heels, spreading in a large pool around…around…

Hilda wiped her running nose with her gloved hand and she blinked away tears. She needed to keep it together. As much as the memory was burned into her mind, she always pushed it down and the emotions with it. She hated how her thoughts wandered to that moment. Unfortunately, she had all the time in the world to think in this cell.

“Unhand me, how dare you!” A voice vibrated the walls of prison and she sat up as the cell door next to her opened, a yell in exasperation as the man was thrown into the room, and a clang as the door closed and locked again. The man cursed, and Hilda spotted what was very possibly purple boots.

“Lorenz?” Hilda presses her face to the ground to peer through the small grate at the bottom of the wall shared by the two cells. “Lorenz? Is that you?”

She hears him gasp and he also bends down to look through the grate. When he sees her pink eyes, he exclaims. “ _Hilda_ , you’re okay. Thank the Goddess.”

“What did they do to you? We didn’t hear back for you since the Battle at the Bridge—”

“I got captured after…Judith—”

“We heard. I know.” Hilda remembers when Claude got the letter back from a surviving soldier at the bridge, his eyebrows furrowing as his green eyes raced across and down the letter, his curses as he put his head into his hands at his desk. 

_She’s dead. I_ told _her to retreat, why didn’t she…?_

Hilda was never good at consoling others. She remembers placing a hand on his arm. If he cried, he didn’t let her see.

“Where have you been?” she asks.

“I do not know. I was in a smaller, more isolated prison, but I guess after the fall of the Alliance, they’re not as worried about conspiracy and spies.” Lorenz answers, gravely.

“I’m sorry. We never tried to get you.”

“How could you? Claude must have known there would be sacrifices. After all, I could have fallen. Or died in prison. That wasn’t worth the risk.”

Hilda bit her lip. “Did you hear that he—” She can’t say the word.

“Yes.” She hears Lorenz take a deep breath. “Yes, I know.”

She sits with her side pressed against the wall that they share and runs her fingers through her matted pink ponytail. An overwhelming feeling of realization comes over her as she worries the now-brown-and-grey hem of her skirt. “I should have died.”

“Hilda—!!”

“If I gave myself up, or sacrificed myself, or was more careless, maybe I could have _done_ something.” Hilda hit her head against the cold stone so hard that Lorenz must have heard the thump from his cell. She can hear him shift in alarm. “He could have lived.”

Lorenz’s voice came exasperated through the grate. “You should not say things like that.”

“It’s _true_. If I did more, I could have stopped it. He would be alive.” Her anger was cold and hot in her chest.

“ _Could_ have, Hilda. He _could_ have lived. You don’t know what would have happened.” Lorenz says quietly. “And _you_ wouldn’t be alive. And do you really think he would have wanted that?”

Hilda feels the tears burn her eyes and her voice wavers. _Fuck_. She hates how that thought affects her. “Does it matter?” She hears Lorenz raise his voice to protest. She cuts him off. “No, it doesn’t matter. He was the face of the cause. He was the one with the vision. I should have died for that. If that means he lived, my death would have been worth it. He was more important than me.”

Lorenz reaches through the grate, his slim fingers finding her hand. His usually neat fingernails have dirt and specks of dried blood under them. His hand is cold from the drafty prison they’re in, but the gesture is warm. His voice echoes before he speaks again. “It would have mattered to him. You know it would.”

Hilda fights back tears and she takes a shaky breath. She remembers Claude’s cheerful laugh when they were alone together, not masked by the pressure he was under or his need to fulfill his goals. She remembers how they would find each other over the years after graduation, at Alliance Roundtable Meetings or when he would pass through Goneril territory before leaving to or from Almyra. By now, they were closer than they have ever been.

 _I can be real with you. You see me for me._ She remembers his words the night before the battle where he fell. They were alone in her guest room at the Derdriu estate. _I can’t imagine what I would do without you. Maybe that’s selfish._

She can’t remember what she replied back, but she does remember how he reacted. _Okay, but don’t take it the wrong way._ His smile dropped and he took her hands. She remembers how small hers were compared to his. _I need you. Don’t die on me. If you get tired or find yourself in trouble—pull back. I want you to come back to me._

That’s what she did. She played it cautious to make sure she lived for him.

So much for that. She’s sobbing now, her tears falling down her chin and landing on her lap and on the dirty stone floor. Thank the goddess Lorenz can’t see her and only hear her.

“Yeah.” Her voice comes out in a croak when she finally catches her breath. “You’re right. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel like shit.”

“Hm.” Lorenz breaths a small laugh. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t.”

She lets him hold her hand tighter. Thank whatever goddess is out there that they ended up together. She couldn’t imagine dealing with this alone.

Hilda leans her head against their shared wall and smiles, her tearstained cheeks resisting. “Remember how he would give the best hugs?”

“Mm.” She could hear his smile.

“And he would smell like pine. Who knows whether where that came from. But I bet his ass put cologne or Almyran perfume or something.” She smiles to herself wistfully until she can feel his fingers tremble in her palm. She instantly starts to worry.

“Lorenz?” Her voice is soft.

He sucks in his breath and shakily lets it out. He forces his hand back from her grip.

“Lorenz.”

“What do I do?” Hilda never heard his voice like this before; it quivers with uncertainty and sorrow and it leaves her heart aching for him. She doubts he had ever let anyone hear him cry. “I gave up everything.”

“I know.” She remember how Lorenz came to Derdriu, windblown on horseback, with only a satchel at his side. Claude was the first to meet him when Lorenz arrived.

 _He abandoned his family._ Claude caught her up afterwards. _He said that he came to act as a hostage so his father won’t send the Gloucester army at us, but I don’t think it’s the whole story. He’s distressed from what he’s done, but he seems happier here._ She remembers how he frowned. _I can only imagine why. I don’t even want to think about how much of an asshole Count Gloucester can be_ behind _closed doors._

“That must have taken a lot of courage.”

“My father is an elitist with no tolerance for anyone else unlike him and whatever he thinks I should be. Legacy before all else.” The words come from gritted teeth.

Hilda’s eyebrows knitted together before she cracks a small smile. “Coming from you must mean a lot.”

“Very humorous.” She can imagine his eyeroll and hears him sigh. “I just wish I could have let Claude know about how much I cared for him before…” His voice trails off.

“I’m sure he did.”

Lorenz takes another shaky breath. “No. I don’t think so.” His voice wavers again.

Hilda remembers how Lorenz would invite Claude to tea and how they would spend time together in the garden at the Reigan estate during the early months of the war. She usually assumed it was to discuss their next steps, which it probably was. Claude was always a touchy person, but she knows she swore she would sometimes see their lingering hands. Another realization comes over her and she immediately reaches for him through the grate. “Oh, Lorenz…”

She feels him take her hand, and she hopes her hands aren’t as cold as they probably are. She holds his hand firmly. Lorenz’s hands are wet from his tears, and Hilda lets him cry.

When Lorenz speaks again, it’s almost back to normal. “What does it matter. He probably wanted children and to hold a lineage. He was to be king in Almyra, no? I couldn’t give that to him. Not that he would have cared anyway—”

“That’s bullshit, Lorenz.” Hilda catches Lorenz’s hand again before he can even pull away. This time, she grips his hand hard, he whispers a small _ow_. “Claude was never the type to follow whatever was ‘normal’. He would have just wanted to be happy.”

“If happiness is what he wanted, he probably would have chosen you.”

That, and Lorenz’s dejected sigh makes her heart drop and her chest go cold. Furrowing her brow, she laughs nervously, “What are you even talking about?”

“You could have given him a legacy and happiness. You two were close enough. If anyone saw you two together, one probably assumed—”

Hilda just laughs and it bounces around the walls of the prison. “We were just friends!”

She could hear his raised eyebrow in his inflection. “Truly.” Sarcasm drips from the word.

“Of _course_. We never even—” She stops herself because what she’s about to say is a lie. But Lorenz doesn’t need to know that.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” Lorenz snorts. “Claude acted very similarly when I inquired about it.”

“Did he?”

“As expected. I had the impression he never wanted to begin any serious…alliances…until he had no liabilities to worry about.”

Hilda couldn’t help but smile. “He always wanted to do things right.”

“A perfectionist, even when it came to such things like this. I always wondered…if we had won the war…”

“Lorenz.” A sob emerges from her chest. “Oh god, Lorenz. I loved him, didn’t I?”

She hears him let out a long, tired, sad sigh. “It would seem so.”

“Fuck.” She gasps, suddenly out of breath.

“Don’t beat yourself too harshly.” He says this softly. Lorenz is empathetic, and Hilda doesn’t give him enough credit for that. “It’s hard not to find Claude von Reigan appealing.”

“Then, you did too.” Hilda shoots back.

“Shit, don’t say that.” Lorenz cursing is disconcerting. “I didn’t want—”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Hilda knows the feeling. Labeling things like that tend to make it too real.

Their hands hold each other’s firmly as if their shared admiration for one man, now gone, grounds them from spiraling into despair. Hilda thinks about how he showed affection to them both and it confuses her.

It’s as if Lorenz can read her mind. He lets out a low laugh. “He was never one to be conventional, was he?”

“Would you have been okay with…?”

“Sharing him?” Lorenz was sharp. She never quite gave him enough credit for that either. “Huh. I can’t say how I would feel for sure, but if it made him happy…” He trails off.

“I think if I had to share him with anyone, I wouldn’t mind it being you, Lorenz.”

Lorenz seems taken aback by her statement. He speaks softly. “That’s high praise, coming from you.” Lorenz lets out a cynical laugh. “Look at us. Brokenhearted. And probably about to get executed.”

Hilda wipes her tears with her other sleeve. “Lorenz, what is going to happen to us?”

“Whatever her Imperial Emperor wants.” She has never heard Lorenz sound so dejected.

“What’s the likelihood of her sparing our lives?” Hilda places her head on the cold stone with a large sigh.

“You know Edelgard. While she always had an appreciation for talented people—” Hilda wonders what her talent could possibly be. “—but our loyalty is not to her. And I doubt either of us are willing to change our allegiance so quickly. And Edelgard isn’t necessarily the most merciful—"

Hilda hums, her eyes flitting down to her scratched up knees below the hem of her skirt. Her eyes widen as she remembers something that the guards did not take from her person. “Lorenz.”

“—So I do not think—yes?”

She takes her hand back from the grate and reaches into her cleavage to pull out a small clear vial. She leans down to show Lorenz. “Claude gave me this. He said to use it emergencies. I don’t know if it’ll do the job with half the dose, but we can try—what do we have to lose?”

Lorenz’s hand takes the small vial and mutters to himself. “Of course.”

“What?”

She hears rustling and his hand appears again in the grate, this time with her vial and another just like it. She gasps.

“You too?” She says softly and takes her poison back. She hears Lorenz hum in reply.

Of course Claude would give them both poison. He knew his status and their roles in relation to his. It was only logical that the two of them were targets to be captured by the Empire. Claude explained this to her when he gave her the poison to begin with.

 _I don’t want you to suffer because of my actions or mistakes._ Claude had said to her, more serious than she had ever seen him in her life.

“He didn’t want us to suffer, Hilda.” Lorenz says softly, as if he knew Claude had said the same thing to him. He probably did.

“You’re right.” Hilda reaches for Lorenz through the grate once more. Lorenz holds her fingers tightly. “He cared about us.”

“Yes.”

“The both of us.” Hilda presses a sob into her forearm. Lorenz hears her and rubs his thumb against her hand to comfort her.

“Do you want to drink--?” Lorenz’s voice ends in uncertainty.

Hilda falters. “I—”

Her prison doors open with a bang and her brings her hand from the grate as the Empire guards grab her from both sides and ushers her from her cell. She looks back and she meets Lorenz’s eyes from behind his bars.

And all she sees is grief.


End file.
